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For once, the American people and I agree on something, and that is that Maleficent is pretty much a godsend and awesome and everything we were hoping it would be.
And yet.
It’s doing quite, quite well at the box office, but I can’t help but notice that it’s not getting more attention considering the quality of the film. I think Maleficent is fantastic from stem to stern, but as much as people like it, it hasn’t taken the world by storm like the last Disney film. I can’t abide that, dammit. It’s time to speak up about the differences between the two princess-centered films and why I think Maleficent succeeded where Frozen failed, and why it deserves more credit.
1. Because Maleficent is an actualized, three-dimensional character and not just a cardboard cut-out with a pretty face. Look, Frozen fans, I am not at war with you, but I do need you to see the many problems with the film, particularly with Elsa and Anna. They’re not fully realized characters. And Maleficent is. Her story is her own and she controls it, motivates it, changes it, and conquers it. Maleficent is an active protagonist AND antagonist, which is something Elsa severely lacked in Frozen. Maleficent started out just as sweet as can be and then was dealt something beyond cruel by the man she loved and so she took matters into her own hands. What’s more is that the narrative itself doesn’t try to pull a Loki and make it seem like she’s totally justified. It acknowledges that her curse was a horrid thing done out of anger, sorrow, and jealousy. Then it does one better by showing that Maleficent’s vendetta slowly melted into something unexpected. It turns out she wasn’t completely cold-hearted and bitter, and that Aurora’s sweetness was able to make it past the thorns around her heart. Moreover, her relationship with Diaval also gave us insight into who she was before and after the curse, showing that it is possible to be both hero and villain in your own story.
Frozen tried to give us a “two-sides-of-the-same-coin” with the sisters, but because the movie glossed RIGHT over Elsa and Anna growing up, it didn’t work. As much as people rave about “Let It Go”, it’s nothing but exposition. It’s NOT a proper character turn. If we knew anything about how Elsa changed from childhood into becoming a powerful ice mistress, then yes, the song would have had more impact and she would be a three-dimensional character. Same with Anna. Hell, Anna’s even worse because she is supposed to be the hero side of the coin and she does exactly two relevant things in the entire narrative: (1) goes to try to talk to Elsa after she freezes Arendale and (2) stops Hans from killing her. There is no path for her. It’s just meandering around with a bland guy and a marketing gimmick with no subplots or traits to make her anything more than a widdle baby protagonist who needs help from literally everyone before she gets anything done.
I’m not saying that Elsa and Anna needed to be Action Girls to be three-dimensional. They needed motivations, personality traits, hopes, fears, desires, wishes, flaws, and ultimately control of the narrative. They didn’t have those, and that’s why I think Maleficent should be what little girls see when they think of a princess story.
2. The visual effects weren’t trying to hide a bad story or distract the audience from other shortcomings. One of the first things that made me know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I wouldn’t like the live-action Oz movie is that it was literally a hurricane of special effects. I mean, Alice in Wonderland levels of special effects. It dripped from the screen and just covered my shoes in it. There are very, very few times when an effects-heavy movie isn’t just a cheap distraction. Maleficent didn’t have long, pointless scenes for you to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at. Each scene served a purpose–whether it was revealing Maleficent growing attached to Aurora and remembering how it felt to smile, or the striking visual of Maleficent riding Diaval (oh, wow, that came out wrong…and yet so right…dude, I so ship them now) to the palace in a mad dash to save Aurora from the curse. Not once did I feel like the film was trying to pad the running time. It had just enough pretty and scary things to make my inner fairytale fangirl giddy with delight.
Frozen, on the other hand, had several instances of pure padding. The intro song, the frickin’ snowman song, and the rock troll song were all 100% padding. You could have easily introduce Arendale and the poor neglected Kristoff in like five lines of dialogue. Hell, Flynn Rider’s intro to Tangled took, what? Less than five minutes? Quick, fun, efficient, and intriguing. Frozen’s introduction was extremely by-the-numbers and felt unnervingly like they were trying to rip off Pocahontas and the Lion King in one fell swoop.
In terms of the effects for Frozen, I have a lot to say because I’m upset that Elsa and Anna are so blatantly drawn from Rapunzel’s character model, and don’t get me started on Hans. There are a lot of ways to cut corners–hell, that’s what they did in the old days with Aristocats and Robin Hood–but it was 2013 and Disney shouldn’t have been copy/pasting characters. I had to actually Google the guy playing Hans because he sounded so much like Zachary Levi at certain points.
Not to mention the fact that while Elsa’s ice castle was cool, it was totally illogical. Where does she poop? Where does she sleep? Does she eat the snow too? Ice powers don’t make you not need food. And she would’ve starved anyway since she was a princess and had absolutely NO knowledge of how to live outdoors without thousands of manservants.
But I digress.
Maleficent knew how to use its effects and scenery to draw more attention to the characters, not divert attention away from them. That was my point. I’m sorry for giving you the mental image of Elsa on an ice toilet. Eegh.
3. It had a way better female-empowerment message. I’ll keep this short, because I could honestly rant about the faux-feminists running amok with Frozen all day long. Maleficent does a very clever thing, which is showing the darkest parts of both men and women and then showed us that redemption and love are still possible even in the worst conditions. Maleficent had every single reason to kill King Stephan (at one point during the final climax, I said, “Rip his throat out and shove it up his ass!”) but she took the high road and realized that he was a ghost of his former self and therefore not worth bloodying her hands. The movie didn’t try to teach little girls that men are awful creatures and can’t be trusted. It also showed us an unhealthy female relationship (the beginning where Maleficent basically just stalks Aurora out of petty hatred) change and develop into something actually quite lovely. I was so delighted when I realized that Maleficent’s inner mother was activated by the very creature she hated enough to damn to eternal slumber, and I actually got a little choked up during the scene where she desperately tries to revoke the curse. I absolutely adored the scenes of Maleficent showing Aurora the Moors and softening up around her. The two of them changed each other–Maleficent helped Aurora become a woman and see the world for what it was, both good and bad, and Aurora helped bring Maleficent back to who she was before Stefan broke her heart. That is a relationship little girls and teenage girls need to see. They need to see that there is evil and hatred out there, but that it’s possible to heal from heartbreak.
Frozen, to me, seemed pretty much anti-male. Kristoff was supposed to be the one who made us believe in dudes again, but he knows so little about Anna by the end of the story that I really just think he wanted to bone her and not much else. I mean, sure, sacrificing herself for her sister was sweet, but he still didn’t know jack-diddly-squat about her so it didn’t gel with the story. Furthermore, the Fan Dumb insists that Frozen “proves” that you don’t need no stinkin’ man to save the day, but guess what? If not for Olaf, Anna would’ve died in that room without saving her sister. And Olaf may be a snowman, but he’s still a dude. So, yeah. Giant hole in that argument.
This is not to say that Maleficent didn’t have help, but she ended up defeating the villain by her own hand and not being conveniently saved by a walking plush toy. And what’s more is Aurora is the one who saved her. Without her wings, Maleficent might have been slain. Aurora is also even more proof that you don’t need to be a flying bad ass to still be a great female character. After all, she didn’t raise a hand to anyone, but she melted Maleficent’s heart and she bravely freed her wings, thus saving her life. That’s awesome. That’s worth remembering and celebrating, at least in my eyes.
…so I guess everyone will be really mad if I admit I liked Lana Del Ray’s “Once Upon a Dream” way more than Idina Menzel’s “Let It Go”, huh? Better not open that can of worms and just end it here.
I’m not saying Frozen’s a bad movie. I simply think that it was given credit that it didn’t quite earn the way that I feel Maleficent did. I’ve been waiting for a dark fairytale re-telling with an active protagonist, great effects, an amazing cast, and the right atmosphere, and that’s what Maleficent gave me. I’ve seen it twice and I sure as hell am going to get it on DVD.
My hope is that Disney will make a note of why Maleficent is doing well and realize that it’s not pretty princesses that make us love fairytales. It’s when you tell a story well and don’t skimp on all the things that make women of royalty worth watching. And I know should know. I walked with them once upon a dream.
-Kyoko
As my show of thanks for the awesome free weekend results, here’s the first part of Chapter 2 from the upcoming sequel to The Black Parade, She Who Fights Monsters. You can read chapter one right here.
JORDAN
“I take it from this supposedly mandatory back rub that things didn’t go well with the talent agent?”
My husband sighed and the smooth skin on his shoulders shifted with each exhale. My fingertips worked small, slow circles in the middle of his spinal column where I could feel knots of tension. An archangel with back problems. Who knew?
“She said that we had the talent and the look, but we’re not ‘marketable enough’,” Michael said with no small amount of bitterness in his tone. It hurt to hear.
“That’s the third agent to tell me so. I’m beginning to think this profession isn’t as enjoyable as I once hoped.”
“C’mon, don’t say that. You love music. You’d better not even think about giving it up,” I scolded, but in my most supportive voice.
“Besides, getting a record deal is like getting published. All it takes is one yes, so you’re going to have to wade through a hundred no’s before you get there.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slow, folding his arms to prop up his head. “Yeah, I know. But it still sucks.”
I leaned down and kissed the top of his head, resting my hands on his shoulders.
“Welcome to showbiz, stud.”
A soft sound escaped him, one similar to a laugh. “How’d you get to be so savvy about this?”
“Life. Alright, let’s get to work.” I reached over and grabbed the manila folder lying next to us and handed it to him. Gabriel had left it for me on the kitchen counter and I hadn’t seen it yet since I’d headed straight to the concert. He pushed up on his elbows and opened it, reading the files out loud while I resumed my careful massage of his lower back.
“Victim Number One: Danny Bowen. Thirty-four. Mechanical engineer. Kentucky resident. Found murdered in his home five months ago. Deep puncture wound in the chest. Traces of steel found in the rib cage indicate a large blade. Entry and exit wounds suggests it’s shaped like a sickle.”
He flipped to the next page. “Victim Number Two: Todd Lovett. Twenty-one. Biochemistry major at Oxford. Found murdered in his car four months ago. Strangled to death in the front seat at roughly three o’clock in the morning. First to remember the killer chanting something in Latin as he died.”
Next page. “Victim Number Three: Imani Ibekwe. Thirty-one. Missionary. Found murdered in her home in Nigeria four months ago. Wounds consistent with the first victim. Confirms that if it is the same killer, he’s using the same weapon. Angle of the wounds suggests the killer is less than six feet tall.”
Page four. “Victim Number Four: Faye Cunningham. Forty-two. Nurse at a hospital in Poland. Found murdered in her home like Victims One and Three with the same wounds three months ago.”
Page five. “Victim Number Five: Yusef Nolan. Twenty-five. Television producer. Found murdered in his studio apartment in Brisbane two months ago. Defensive wounds on his forearms suggest the killer knows an extensive amount of martial arts as Yusef was a brown belt in judo and still ended up dead.”
Page six. “Victim Number Six: Erica Davalos. Forty-three. Kindergarten teacher. Found murdered in her home a month and a half ago. First victim not to immediately cross over. Like the other spirits, she remembers seeing a man chanting in Latin.”
I rested my chin on the top of his head, folding my arms across the back of his broad shoulders. “Aside from being Seers, what do we have on similarities?”
He flipped to the last page. “Based on the records I had some of the angels compile, Todd and Faye are of the same bloodline. They’re descendants of Matthew. Danny is a descendant of Luke, Imani is a descendant of John the Baptist, and Erica is a descendant of Thomas.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t really have any relevance. So far, their Awakenings tie them together, not their bloodlines. What else?”
“Their homes and possessions were all burned to the ground. That suggests that the killer believes in some sort of purification ritual. However, he doesn’t leave markings on the ground afterward or any memorabilia. If it’s a cultural thing, it’s not one we’ve seen before.”
“Which means it’s newly formed by Captain Psychopath. Great. And you’re sure this isn’t a demon’s doing?”
“No. Demons can only sense the Awakening of a Seer sometime after the angels, not exactly when it happens. Only archangels and experienced Seers can sense when someone’s powers are developing. It gives us a bit of a head start. Besides, we’ve been tracking Belial’s movements for the past year and they aren’t consistent with the murders.”
A little shudder went down my spine at the mention of the demon’s name. I had been fortunate enough not to see him for over a year and that still wasn’t long enough. Every time I left the apartment, I felt a tiny shadow of fear rest between the back of my shoulders—fear that he was watching me, waiting for the opportunity to strike and get back at me for foiling his plans three times in a row.
“Good to know,” I said, though a little softer than I intended.
Michael noticed and pushed up on his hands, forcing me to slide off his back. He turned to me and cupped the side of my cheek in his large hand.
“Hey, don’t get so tense on me. He’s out of our lives. You know that.”
I tried to return the smile but it didn’t quite stick. “Yeah, but he’s always been a wild card. I can’t shake the feeling that he won’t try to come after us again.”
“Well, you’ve gotten pretty good at kicking his ass so I think we’re safe,” the archangel said, pressing a light kiss to my lips. I allowed myself to be lost in his touch and then a couple minutes later I was lying on my back and my shirt was on the floor and I knew exactly what would happen if I didn’t stop it.
It took a massive amount of will power to quit kissing him but I finally did, suppressing a wistful sigh. “It’s late. We probably shouldn’t, uh…you know.”
He grinned. “I’m so happy you’re the voice of reason in this relationship.”
I flicked him in the forehead. “Someone has to be, otherwise I’d be a paraplegic in the span of a month. Are you staying here tonight or heading home?”
The grin faded at the edges. “You know, it’d be a lot easier if I didn’t have to keep making the decision.”
I took a deep breath, raking fallen strands of hair out of my eyes. “Can we not have that discussion tonight?”
A frown bunched between his eyebrows, but he swallowed the argument and crawled off the bed, grabbing his t-shirt from where it dangled on the headboard. “I’d better head to my place. We have an early rehearsal and I have more talent agents to find and disappoint.”
I watched him pull the shirt on with a certain amount of regret. I had learned enough in my six-months of marriage to be able to tell when he was unhappy, and he was because he wouldn’t maintain eye contact. Michael’s eyes always gave him away. In some ways, they were his best feature and thus they were his deadliest.
“Would it help if I showed up in a cheerleading costume for your next performance?”
He chuckled. “I thought we tried that one already. Or was it the Naughty Nurse?”
He ducked when I threw my sock at his head, swooping in for a goodnight kiss. I cradled his face between my hands for a long moment before letting go. My bed was always colder—literally and figuratively—when he didn’t spend the night.
“Buenas noches, amor,” I murmured.
He kissed my forehead. “Igualmente.”
Warm fingers mapped my spine, tracing the long curve of naked skin down to the small of my back, slowly, soothingly, purposefully. The sheets beneath me were clean and fresh like a summer morning—nothing a laundry detergent could pull off, either. This scent was as if someone had bottled the air at sunrise and sprayed it over cotton. I never felt more at peace, more relaxed. I’d found a small corner of heaven to lie upon.
The hands at my back had long fingers that hinted at strength and masculinity as they slid upward towards my scars. The rough fingertips followed the jagged lines zigzagging over my spinal column where my aunt’s switches and belts and extension cords had cut the skin too badly to heal. The scars had turned to brown worms and melted into the rest of me. A long time ago, I had been upset over them, afraid to wear certain shirts and dresses, but over time they became as much a part of me as my black hair or morena skin or knobby knees.
I sighed as his thumbs pressed against the blade of my shoulders, massaging in a circle, smoothing away the tension. Seconds later, soft lips touched the spot and silky hair brushed along my spine. My eyes opened and focused on his hand, palm flat, lying to my left. The skin was as pale as alabaster instead of the natural tan I was used to. Wait. Something was wrong.
My pulse sped up as I gathered the white sheets beneath me to cover my bare breasts and rolled over only to find the archdemon Belial on his knees above me.
I opened my mouth to scream, but he clapped one of his large hands over it, drowning my shout of alarm.
“Don’t. This may be a dream, but your screams are still quite irritating, my pet.”
I tore his hand away from my lips, glaring at him to hide my fear. He still looked the same—a narrow nose, perfect slender cheekbones, and wickedly sensual lips. He looked vaguely European to me, but he didn’t have an accent. His voice was deep, cold, and empty most of the time unless he was mocking me. He appeared somewhere in his late twenties to early-thirties, but I knew he was damn near as old as time itself. He wore an unbuttoned navy dress shirt that flapped loosely around his chest, granting me an eyeful of his perfectly carved abs.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I need to speak with you.”
“What? You don’t own a phone, jackass?”
He cocked his head to the left, one dark eyebrow rising. “Would you have listened if I called you? No. You’d hang up and we both know it. I was forced to find an alternate method of communication.”
“Yes, and the bed was entirely necessary as part of the communication,” I growled with the utmost sarcasm. He smirked.
“I would be remised if I didn’t try to make a pass at you. In the real world, I am no longer able to…” He paused, licking his bottom lip. “—taste you, but in the dream world, I am free to do as I please.”
I glared. “Do you have a point?”
“Ah, yes, that.” The humor and flirtatiousness abated, leaving his nearly white eyes to focus on me with a serious look in them. It never failed to creep me out that his pupils weren’t round but slits like a snake’s. It was the mark of all archdemons, a sign of royalty.
“You are no doubt aware of the murdered Seers, yes?”
“Of course. Don’t tell me you’re gonna confess to them?”
He snorted again, seeming offended. “Nonsense. I would have left a signature if it were my doing, but that is why I have chosen to contact you. I wish to report that these killings are not being committed by one of the Fallen.”
“Why the hell should I believe that, Belial? Lying is like air to you.”
“Because you know as well as I do that our side would not kill Seers indiscriminately. They are of as much use to us as they are to you and we are at a disadvantage when there is only one of them hanging around. One who just happens to be married to an archangel,” he added with another insufferable smirk.
I ignored the comment. “So let’s pretend you’re telling the truth. If it’s not a demon, then who is it?”
“I would advise you to reexamine your so-called saviors.”
“The angels?”
He nodded. I shook my head. “You think we haven’t considered that? Of course we have. But there’s also the fact that not a single angel has ever gone rogue since the Fall. Why would one start now?”
Belial shrugged. “Perhaps he knows something we do not? The roster in Heaven is infinite. It is possible one of these angels slipped through the cracks. Ask Michael if there have been any unusual absences in Heaven, perhaps someone who left for Earth without a specific order.”
“Why are you so eager to find this killer?”
“As I said before, my pet. Seers are just as valuable to my side as they are to yours. It is necessary to find him and stop him if we ever want to get anywhere.”
I shifted underneath him, becoming even more nervous now that our little chat was coming to an end. “Great. Thanks for the tip. Now get out of my damn head.”
“So soon?” the demon purred, leaning down enough to make my heart rate spike again.
“Is there nothing about this situation that interests you, Seer?”
“Nothing at all,” I said through gritted teeth.
A rather smug grin crossed his lips. “Mentirosa.”
I tried to punch him but faster than I could see, he grabbed both my wrists and pinned them to the mattress. Squirming, I tried to knee him in the groin. He crawled upward and straddled my waist, rendering my legs useless under his weight. An arrogant laugh trickled out of his throat as he watched me struggle in vain.
“I adore that you still resist me even in a place where no one can see us. A less stubborn woman would at least be honest with herself.”
“Honest about what?” I spat. “How much I despise you? How much you disgust me?”
“And how much I turn you on?” he offered. Despite my anger, a creeping heat found its way on my cheeks and I hated it.
“You don’t-”
“I’m inside your head, Jordan. I can feel everything.” He lowered his face to my neck, not touching me but just barely letting his hot breath flow over my skin and his jet-black hair glide across my collarbone.
“I can feel it like the blood rushing through your veins. Your angel may be handsome and valiant, but he does not excite you the way that I do. You crave danger like a creature of the night. Like a demon. Like me. Sooner or later, you will accept that about yourself.”
“You’ve been out of my life for a year and a half. I don’t miss anything. Can you feel that?” I shot back.
“No, I cannot. Perhaps if I try a little harder…” He pursed his lips and blew at the sheets just barely clinging to my chest. They slipped downward a couple of inches, revealing the scar over my heart, and Belial’s hot tongue laved the length of it, making me gasp. I squeezed my eyes shut, ashamed and angry as my body started to tremble with a horrible combination of fear and excitement.
A buzzing sound woke me. I jolted upward in bed, my hands flying to my chest as I felt the ghost of Belial’s touch fading away with the nightmare. Light touched the edges of the bedroom through the blinds of my window. I glanced about to detect the odd noise only to discover my phone had received a text message. I sighed, swiping sweaty tendrils of hair off my forehead, and grabbed my cell phone.
I’ll be over for lunch around 1:00. Te amo.
-Michael
“Saved by the bell,” I muttered, dropping the phone in my lap. A shudder went down my spine at the thought of what might have happened if he hadn’t woken me up. With Michael beside me, my dreams were protected because he emitted a subconscious protective aura. Without him, I was vulnerable. Open. Prey.
A knot began to twist in my stomach, sagging there like a boulder. I knew that ache. Michael and Gabriel had taken turns rehabilitating me from my alcohol dependence, but I still got cravings during high stress situations. This sure as hell was one of them.
So I did what any person would do.
I cooked.
To be continued in She Who Fights Monsters, available on Amazon July 22, 2014. Like the Facebook page for updates and announcements for the upcoming paperback giveaway.
The upcoming sequel to The Black Parade hits July 22, 2014. Here’s your official book blurb and plot reveal!
Michael O’Brien. 25. New Yorker. Lead guitarist. Commander of Heaven’s Army.
Jordan Amador. 22. New Yorker. Waitress. Investigator for souls with unfinished business, also known as a Seer.
The dynamic supernatural duo is in the middle of trying to solve a deadly case. Someone is methodically hunting down and murdering Seers one by one. After six months with no leads on the killer, Jordan and Michael are forced to work with their worst enemy—the archdemon Belial: a self-professed Prince of Hell who is dead set on stealing Jordan for himself. However, with the archdemon’s help, they pick up on the trail of the serial killer and plan to stop him no matter what the cost.
When the shocking truth behind the murderer’s identity is revealed, Jordan begins asking herself if she is still fighting for the good guys or has she become one of the monsters she is desperately trying to stop?
Excited yet? You can read an excerpt from Chapter 1 already.
The next chapter will be posted sometime soon as well as the reveal of the book cover. I’m also going to run a giveaway on Goodreads starting June 22, 2014, if everything goes according to schedule. We’re also going to do another virtual book launch since the first one went pretty well, so I hope you’ll join me for that as well.
Keep your eyes peeled for more!
-Kyoko
Hell of a week, my darlings.
Hell of a week.
So in that regard, here are all the stops we’ve made that haven’t been posted since yours truly has been stuck working long hours at her day job.
Mythical Books – Guest Post “From Bible to Urban Fantasy”
Fangtastic Books – Guest Post “Tips for Novice Writers”
Roxanne’s Realm – Guest Post “The Deadly Seven soundtrack”
Paranormal Romance and Authors That Rock – Spotlight
With each post, you still have a chance to enter to win a free copy of The Deadly Seven, either in paperback or eBook. Thanks for all your support! It’s been a fun tour!
-Kyoko